


Larsa

by ohkbae



Series: Promptio onesies! (Kid fic one shots) [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Gen, Protective Cor Leonis, Protective Gladiolus Amicitia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohkbae/pseuds/ohkbae
Summary: When Larsa Amicitia made his way to the royal library, looking for the necessary piece for an upcoming festival, he didn't think he'd have to fight for his life, let alone against someone he's supposed to be able to trust.Then again, it's like they always say: You think you know someone...
Series: Promptio onesies! (Kid fic one shots) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/725919
Kudos: 11





	Larsa

**Author's Note:**

> Hey-o, I'm back. I know it's been forever but I've been dealing with some crazy, wild changes. Anyhow, for your information:
> 
> 1) This story revolves around Larsa and takes place after the events at the end of Warm Shadow  
> 2) The rating is more for subject matter, because there's really nothing explicit here  
> 3) Heed the warnings, seriously, heed them  
> 4) This takes place at in indiscriminate time, but far enough along that Lucis has been mostly rebuilt and people are actually living there now  
> 5) Also, not sure if I made it explicitly clear, but Gladio and Prompto's kids now make up the royal line, despite Cor being king, so they are, in fact, princes and princesses  
> 6)Last, but not least, I don't believe I've ever given Prompto's parents proper names, so Prompto's mother is Hera, and his father is Zephyrus, but we'll refer to him as Zeph, but they don't actually appear in this story, just throwing that out there
> 
> So, without further ado, enjoy the story!

It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm with a light breeze, the perfect day for The Festival of the Dawn (an event that _Cor_ had created to honor the last king of the royal Lucian bloodline for his sacrifice). Most everyone was outside the Citadel, helping to prepare for the festivities. Despite being called The Festival of the Dawn, they didn't start the festival until around midday. Truth be told, it was more a festival to celebrate the daylight, but The Festival of the Dawn sounded prettier than The Festival of Midday or The Festival of Daylight. Semantics aside, Larsa was one of the few left to his own devices, with the responsibility of hunting down the book that his father had made with Cor, that laid the groundwork for the lore of the festival. 

He searched the shelves of the royal library rather carelessly, he would admit, shoving books aside in a rare show of impatience. Whoever had the nerve to remove the book from the throne room, where it should've stayed, was now Larsa's enemy. He cursed them under his breath, knowing that if the book were not found, it would put a serious hitch in the festivities of the day, and this was a festival that people traveled from all over Eos to take part in. 

After searching three more shelves and still not finding the book, he threw his hands up in frustration. _This is impossible!_

"You, uh, looking for this?" Larsa startled and spun on his heel, about to give someone a piece of his mind when he noticed the black and white uniform of the newly reborn Kingsglaive. He stared at the man and cleared his throat, gathering his bearings and putting on his most charming smile. 

"Oh, _thank Shiva_. Where did you... _find_ it?" The man shrugged, tucking the book under his right arm as he picked something out of his teeth. 

"Eh, it was just...layin _' around_." Larsa shook his head, dismissing the man's vague response, and took a step toward the man.

"Right, well, if you could hand it over, I'd be most grateful, _um_..." The man grinned at Larsa, and held the book out. The young prince reached out for it, but gasped when the man suddenly pulled it back.

"Jack. The name’s Jack. And, you know, I could actually use some help finding a book of my own, if you're not too busy. I mean, now that _we_ know where _your_ little book is, maybe you could help me find _mine_. I hear you're a kid who's _intimately_ familiar with the library." Larsa scowled at the man, his instincts screaming at him to run and get out of there, and _yet_ , his logical mind won out, insisting that he stay and help one of the men who served under King Cor, seeing as he had a responsibility. 

So, he looked around, noting the open windows, the location of the library at the front of The Citadel, the festival being prepared just below these windows, and, against his better judgement, nodded slowly. 

"Uh, why not? We've got a few hours before the festival." Jack leered at the little prince and Larsa prayed to Shiva he hadn’t made the wrong choice.

" _Excellent_. Now, I know it's somewhere in the history section, it's a military training book, you see, but I'm not entirely sure which shelf it's on." Jack handed the festival book over to Larsa, before shuffling over to one of the shelves by the windows. Larsa took a deep breath and followed after. 

"So, what's the book called?" Jack looked down at Larsa sheepishly. 

"Yeah, about that, I don't remember, but I do remember that there's a painting of the Old Wall on the cover." Larsa sighed, but cut himself short when he remembered something. The week before, one of the Glaive's had pulled his father aside on their way to the throne room to meet with Cor, and Larsa had remained patiently in the hall, trying not to eavesdrop. But alas, it was a difficult thing to not to do, in halls so wide and steep. He remembered hearing about the book, down to the description of the cover. The Glaive had asked for the title and Gladio had given it, without hesitation. 

"Ah, I may have heard about that one, actually." Larsa pushed Jack aside and started rummaging through the shelves, ignorant to Jack’s pacing behind him.

"Alright then, I believe the title is... _aha_! Here it is." Larsa pulled the book from the shelf, turning on his heel and smiling triumphantly at the Glaive, handing the book over. Jack grinned at him.

"Hey, nice, kid. You really do have a knack." Larsa reveled in the compliment before Jack threw the book over his shoulder and crossed his arms. Larsa's gaze followed the book, now lying on the floor behind Jack, before looking back to him in confusion.

"I don't-what? I don't get it. I thought that's what you were looking for." Jack laughed, a rough and grating sound.

"Are _you_ kidding me? Nah, kid, I came here looking for _you_."

"Right, to help you find the... _book_?" Jack shook his head. 

"Nope, but it _was_ a damn good distraction." Jack waved a hand carelessly in the direction of the windows, all three closed and latched now, and the door, shut with the lock turned. 

"Um... _what_?" Jack grinned, taking a step toward the boy, who took two steps back, blanketed by a feeling of dread as realization of the situation settled on him. 

"What do you _want_?" Larsa demanded, carefully retreating from Jack until his back hit the door. 

"Eh, what does anyone ever want? Power? Fame? Fortune? Nah.You know what I _really_ want? What I want more than _anything_ in the world?" Jack asked, raking his eyes down Larsa’s body, licking his lips, fingers twitching. Larsa gasped, fingers scrabbling at the lock behind him.

" _Yeah_ , kid." Jack leapt at him, barely missing as Larsa ducked away and ran around one of the shelves, thinking that if he could lure the Glaive away from the door, he might have a chance to escape. Jack stepped behind the shelf where Larsa was hiding, grinning as he stared down the trembling boy. Larsa waited a beat, then nearly tripped over his own feet on the way to the other side of the room, _thinking, thinking, thinking_ of a way to get out. 

Prompto was sitting on a crate in the courtyard of The Citadel, Hope in his lap, working away on an ice cream cone Gladio had picked up for him at a shop just down the street. They were on a break now, resting their feet, going over all the choices. 

_What colors would the streamers be?_

_What about the colors of the banners?_

_What type of fireworks would they use and what colors would they be?_

_What about the costumes?_

_What about the food?_

_How would tables and chairs be set up?_

_What kinds of booths would they have?_

_What kind of games would they have?_

_Who would be given the various jobs that needed filled?_

Thinking of that last one actually made Prompto think of Larsa, who was _still_ upstairs looking for the book. 

_Oh_ _yeah._

"Hey, Gladio, you wanna go upstairs and ask Larsa what he wants to eat? I don't think he's eaten today." Prompto shouted across the courtyard. Gladio, who had his head bent over a table with Cor, likely discussing the fireworks, didn't appear to have heard Prompto. Well, Prompto would just have to ask Larsa himself then, that is if he was even still in the library.

He looked toward the windows of the library, ready to shout to his son, when he noticed they were closed now. 

_Huh, weird._ He could've sworn they were open a few minutes ago. 

_Oh, well._ Prompto stood, hoisting Hope up on his hip, and headed toward Gladio. He smiled at Lightning and Cloud goofing off on the newly installed fountain, and Penelo standing off to the side, yelling at them to not ruin their clothes or ' _Mama would be so mad_.' Shaking his head as he reached Gladio, Prompto rested his chin on the older man's shoulder, beaming at Cor.

"What's up, babe?" Gladio asked, still distracted by the handful of fireworks that were sitting on the table in front of them. 

"You need to go ask Larsa what he wants to eat. Bring him some food. He hasn't eaten all morning."

"Um, yeah, why can't _you_ do it?" Gladio asked, still not looking at Prompto. The younger stepped back and smacked his husband on the elbow, finally getting his attention. 

"Because I have to go over all the colors with Iris and the fireworks don't need to picked out til night, anyway."

"Babe-"

" _Gladio_." The older man shut his mouth, wincing at the cold tone of Prompto's voice, and saluted him with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Alright, _alright_." 

  
  
  
  


Larsa kicked at the Glaive clinging to his knees, trying in vain to drag himself across the floor to the door of the library. He wasn’t _weak_. He knew what Jack wanted. He just wasn’t prepared to give it up without a fight, though.

His black and gold hoodie, a gift from Cloud for his ninth birthday, was torn down the back from Jack’s knife. He could feel the sting of the cut and the blood running down his back. His pants had been pulled off by the Glaive just before he’d been pinned to the floor, wincing in pain when he felt fingers digging into his thighs, a vice like grip on his hip. Jack had taken the time to lean down and bite into Larsa’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, and after the boy’s pained shout, he took the opportunity where the opportunity presented itself and kicked his bare foot out, hitting Jack between the legs and buying himself enough time to slip out from under the man and sprint for the door. Jack was a Glaive, though, and his reaction time _fast_ , so he was on Larsa before the little prince could open the door. Unlock it, _though_ , he did. 

Jack grabbed the boy around the waist and threw him to the floor, taking a moment to wipe the blood away from his mouth where Larsa had scratched him as he’d been dragged away from the door. He smiled smugly at Larsa, but the boy could see the simmering rage just beneath the surface.

“A fighter, _huh_? I like it. Makes things more exciting.” He leapt at the boy but stopped in his tracks just as the door flew open. Larsa, using the momentary distraction to his advantage, threw himself to the door, and to safety. 

Cor and Gladio stood there, letting Larsa slip between them, glaring at the Glaive, who, it seemed, was paralyzed with fear. Larsa pulled himself up behind his father and king, clinging to the wall. 

“What? Not so cocky when the king’s around?” Larsa snapped, sliding back down the wall as exhaustion took over. Gladio turned to his son, looking him over, fists clenching when he caught sight of the blood and bruises littering the little prince’s body. Gladio took a deep breath.

“Larsa, go to the main entrance hall, please.” Larsa trembled as he caught the look in his dad’s eyes, then glanced over to Cor, who was still facing the Glaive. 

“ _Papa_ -” Larsa whimpered, tears gathering in his eyes.

“It’s okay, son. Go downstairs. Stay by the front doors and wait for me, okay?” To anyone else, Gladio’s voice would seem gentle, reassuring, but Larsa knew his father and he knew he wouldn’t want to be around for what happened next. 

“Okay. _Sure_.” Larsa jumped up, using the wall for leverage, and took off. 

“Now,” Gladio drawled, turning back to the Glaive, “to deal with the matter at hand.”

  
  
  
  


Nobody would talk about what happened with Jack, the _former_ Glaive. What people knew was this:

Cor and Gladio had entered the library.

Cor and Gladio had closed and locked the door.

Cor and Gladio had emerged covered in blood.

Cor and Gladio gave orders to one of the other Glaives to _remove the body_.

Cor and Gladio had a prisoner awaiting their judgement in the dungeons, who may or may not ever see the light of day again. 

Cor and Gladio would _not_ talk about what happened. 

After _The Incident_ , the Amicitia-Argentum heirs were given special protection in the form of the newly reformed Crownsguard. Each child had their own guard, all very capable fighters and all _thoroughly_ vetted. 

For a while, Larsa couldn’t sleep. He would toss and turn at night and would end up in bed between his mother and father, sucking his thumb and curling up in the fetal position. It worried Prompto at first, this kind of behavior at his age, the bruises left behind, the scar tissue trailing down his back, the teeth marks on his neck, but Gladio reassured him, the bruises would fade and Larsa would be himself once more. 

And he was _right_.

Eventually, things returned to normal and Larsa was back to being his usual mature, know-it-all self, throwing wit and sarcasm left and right, grinning smugly every time of his jokes went over his siblings heads, reminding Gladio of... _someone_ he once knew. 

He noticed a change in the other kids, too. Cloud and Lightning seemed to be more _protective_ of their brother after, scaring people off with ‘ _The Look_ ’ whenever they got too close for comfort. Penelo started learning how to bake ( _thanks to Auntie Iris_ ) and would start leaving Larsa little packages outside his room a few times a week with an encouraging hand-made card attached. And Hope, _innocent, little Hope_ , would share his stuffed animals, randomly dropping one in Larsa’s lap throughout the day whenever he could find him. The first time he did it, Larsa burst into tears, and Hope was afraid he’d done something wrong, up until the moment Larsa wrapped his arms around his little brother, hugging him for dear life. 

In time, Larsa put the whole thing behind him and learned how to hold his own, training with his father and Cor. They would banter and bet and Cor always had the _sagest_ advice for him. It was Larsa’s favorite thing to look forward to. 

On the night of Larsa’s fourteenth birthday, Gladio pulled him aside after training and presented him with a twin set of daggers. Larsa had taken them out of the polished wooden case, awestruck by the craftsmanship, and opened his mouth to ask his dad where he got them when Gladio shook his head. 

“Here, sit down.” They sat on the floor of the training room, backs against the wall, Gladio holding one knife, Larsa the other.

“They’re not _really_ the same, but they’re damn similar to a pair a friend of mine had. Your fighting style’s pretty similar to his, your attitude, too.”

“Are you talking about Ignis Scientia?!” Gladio fixed his son with a look, one of surprise, and Larsa threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“Not that I would know who that is or anything. I just heard stories from Cor. Plus, I vaguely remember him from when I met him for, like, all of two minutes when I was a toddler.” 

Gladio smiled at his son, reaching over to brush his hair out of his face, laughing when Larsa squawked and batted his hands away.

“Yeah. He was a great guy, Ignis. You would’ve liked him.” 

“Kinda wish I could’ve met him proper, huh?” Gladio nodded, nudging Larsa’s shoulder with his own.

“Yeah, but without his sacrifice, we wouldn’t be here now. I miss him, you know. Every damn day.” Larsa placed a hand on his dad’s forearm, smiling warmly up at him.

“It’s okay, Papa. I’m sure he’d be _damn_ proud of you.” Gladio scoffed, shaking his head at his son.

“Why, you little shi-” Larsa ducked under his father’s arm as it lashed out, sprinting across the room and hiding behind Cor. 

“Save me, Cor. There’s a Daemon after me.”

“Cor, you better _not_.”

Cor threw his hands up and shook his head as he walked away.

“Not my fight.” 

  
  



End file.
